


Someone New

by Infamous_society



Series: Wasteland, Baby [10]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Elladan - Freeform, Elrohir - Freeform, Eomer - Freeform, Eowyn - Freeform, F/M, Gen, I'm Sorry, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Jealousy, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death, Rivendell | Imladris, Song: Someone New (Hozier)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: Aragorn’s love lies elsewhere, you never expected this day to comeA journey through Middle Earth alongside its characters accompanied by Hozier songs.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Original Female Character(s), Aragorn | Estel/Reader
Series: Wasteland, Baby [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090121
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Someone New

**Author's Note:**

> Very angsty I’m sorry 
> 
> Someone New by Hozier

Words traced across your skin, fingertips soft and warm. Unspoken promises. A lifetime together running through the wild. You both ran from your past and your future. Aragorn, heir of Isildur, melted into Strider around you - he was merely another Ranger.

His breath warmed your veins like a midsummer’s day, brought life to your empty soul. Perhaps he had moulded you with his own bare hands - placing a spark of humanity in your heart. 

The skylarks sang, a springtime melody that welcomed the fight that would arrive tomorrow. You lay side by side, souls exposed under the night sky, murmurs of love soaring into the unknown. The journey back to Rivendell was tiresome, but necessary. You dreamed of Aragorn, of the twins, of your friends.

  
  


Longing glances across the rooms as he walked with Elladan and Elrohir, vengeance and mirth touching all three faces. Love warmed your heart. 

You did not miss the same glances directed at Arwen. 

Night time would fall, he would return to lay by your side. He did not say where he had been. Reunited with his past, willing to seize his future. His mother’s grave lay cold. He was transforming in front of your very eyes. 

Sometimes the silence and the darkness of Imaldris hung thick between you, forcing a gap between his body and yours. Nights under the stars, huddled together for warmth had vanished like the smoke from a funeral pyre. Perhaps this was the end.

He was changing, yet he was still the man you knew. Perhaps you had been foolish to ignore the curiosity, the desire, the darkness that you often saw flickering in his eyes. Days now seemed as if he were becoming royalty - reconciling with the fates of his forefathers. 

Your love seemed to be but a dying ember flickering in the middle of a rainstorm - doomed to fade. Still, he would hold you in his arms and whisper words of reassurance. False hope. _Estel... hope._

Shouts erupted around you, the Ring’s power overwhelming. Despair had once again crept in your soul, gnawing at your flesh, the soothing lull of doubt once again blossomed. 

His grey eyes, burned, storms brewed beneath the surface. His words were calm. Stoic, emotionless to those who did not know him. But you did not miss the slight grin on his face as Legolas defended him. A look you had seen many times - personal, longing. You glanced away, the floor unyielding. 

  
The wild beckoned you once more, a futile mission lay ahead. You would step out of Rivendell, leading Aragorn away from his past once again but walking him surely to his death - or to his future. 

“You do not love me anymore,” a whisper that he heard. The elves heard too, pity in their eyes. Arwen turned away slowly. 

Aragorn shook his head, a ghost of a kiss on your lips, “I still love you.”

His face was soft, caring, relaxed. Strider once again. You pretended not to see the flash of a silver necklace around his neck.

Your battle dance had been memorised by the two of you, plains and forests crumbling away around you.But it now seemed as if others followed in your footsteps, each imprint deepening the sorrow in your heart. 

He had glanced at Éomer, smiled languidly at Éowyn - barely sparing a glance for you. His hands, his lips, his words hardly touched you anymore. Only when he was not preoccupied with tactics or marvelling about Arwen.

The plains and woodlands you had once roamed together, love brighter than starlight, were now your enemy.Each step he took close to Gondor was a step he took away from your love. Swords hung on the wall as you wallowed in the darkness of the room. 

Footsteps. He appeared, weary and determined. You could blink for an instant and pretend it was the man you once loved. He had the same eyes, the same hair and perhaps even the same face. But the rugged handsomeness was twisting into something unattainable. 

A smile flickered on his lips, “I have been looking for you.”

You did not speak, taking a sword off the rack.

“If we should fall then know that I...” his words trailed off - caught like a final hopeless gasp for air when dying on a battlefield. Instead he lent in to kiss you, you stepped aside.

A resignation settled deep inside you. The unspoken words hung heavy in the tension. _Know that I... I loved you once_. 

“Aragorn, I have seen how you look at him, the quick glances when we wake,” you could not speak your friend’s name in fear of crumbling. “You do not love him, I know, it is something else.” 

Indignation flickered on his face, as if he could not bare to hear the truth. But you knew who he was, you had seen his soul when he had walked towards you in the howling gale.

“And the siblings of Rohan? Do you desire them too?” Venom laced your voice, the fear for the oncoming tide of battle echoed around the room. 

He shook his head softly, “I have never desired them. Nay, I still love and desire you.”

  
Care and worry flooded his voice - you would still blindly sacrifice your life for his. You began whetting your blade, stopping sharply.

“The necklace Aragorn, I have seen it,” speaking softly in the silence that now fell around you. “I know you think of her, your eyes betray you. The love that lies in them. Your own Lúthien.” 

He frowned gently, hand reaching up to his neck. Silver glinted through the room. 

“Did you think I had missed Legolas placing it in your hand? How Éowyn looked on? How I thought the man I loved was dead?” 

“That does not mean I no longer love you,” his voice wavered, prepared to fall as if the gods were weeping. “I will always love you. But the crown and the war weigh heavy on my mind.”

Your sword touched his neck, a lover’s gentle caress with the promise of betrayal thinly veiled. 

“The burden of your crown is too heavy to bear? The burden of my love weighs nothing, Strider.”

He turned slowly. A man you no longer recognised walked steadily away from you. 

His voice echoed around the room, the poison of the first winter frost taking hold, “I am not Strider.”

  
  


Battle consumed your mind, each time your eyes closed a passing second of bloodshed flickered in your soul. You were weary - there was no longer a distraction to lose yourself in. Only pain. Remnants of the cruel night’s rain dripped on to the floor. 

But he appeared, as if he were sent from the gods themselves. Bruised and battered, still majestic and powerful. Nights of stitching wounds and soothing bruises echoed in the silence. 

_ I am not Strider.  _

You sighed as he smiled. Relief flooded his features, once again you could believe that he truly loved you and only you. His arms wrapped around you, the embrace of a tranquil summer sun. 

A murmur, as quiet as a rustle of a leaf somewhere in Lorien, “Perhaps you can distract me, the grief is too near.”

Perhaps it was the sorrow, perhaps it was the desperation. Anger coursed through your veins, brief memories of love shared together blended with men drawing final breaths in agony. 

“Do you see me as a mere distraction? Will you keep me by your side as you rule to remind you of life as it was before?” Your voice cracked as you pulled away from his solace. 

Peace. The quiet silence. The sun’s rays glinting, bathing you both in its light. 

He could not answer - frozen in shock, grounded by truth. Every word he had spoken to you now seemed to be a lie. Maybe he had never loved you. 

“You have changed Aragorn,” your hand traced his face. “I do not recognise you anymore.” 

“You -“ he stopped abruptly.

Behind you a horse snorted. Somewhere the distant stars still shone. A long forgotten scar on your shoulder ached. 

“You knew it was inevitable,” his voice barely a whisper - its secrets and lies as clear and as loud as the first call of dawn. 

Emerald gleamed around his neck, bathing you in an ethereal glow. Love blossoming in front of your eyes. 

“She will not sail,” cold and emotionless, ice had stolen your heart - hidden your intentions. “I know her well, she was once my friend too.” 

Then he turned. A shadow hung over him; the pain, the suffering, the grief.

The distance echoed in his voice, “My love for you is eternal, but we have both changed. Your heart is not mine, my heart is not yours.” 

Pausing, he half turned, his face glancing over his shoulder - perhaps his footsteps would lead back to the security of your love. He vanished into the sea of soldiers. 

  
  


And as the sword slashed your side, as you crumbled in agony with the taste of death on your lips, you did not weep. Aragorn did not notice, he no longer fought by your side, instead he rode ahead with the hope, the promise of a new love. 


End file.
